Only Fooling Yourself
by Dreamlover1102
Summary: Long One-shot. Love is a long and complicated affair.  Zevran and F!Cousland pairing


**A/N: Random little one-shot that popped into my brain...(My female warden is named Raven, so that's who Zevran is referring to.) I also appologize for some OOC-ness. It's more because it worked better for the plot. Im sorry. And Dont forget, this story is rated M for some mature scenes. I don't think its too bad but come on, ladies and gentleman, it's Zevran. Anywhoodles, on with the story. Happy reading!**

**Disclaimer: Don't own.**

**...**

_"Cry to him, your lover,_

_ Though you love another,_

_ He will hold you through the night,_

_ Your heart he has taken,_

_ Your love has been forsaken,_

_ He will hold you tight..."_

Zevran stood in the shadows, darkness surrounding him as he tried desperately not to listen to her laugh. Her laugh was as beautiful and charming as she was, and he felt his heart constrict knowing that she was laughing at something Alistair had said. Some witty joke he was so fond of making.

Sod him, and his stupid jokes.

He could be just as witty as Alistair. In fact, he was quite sure he already was. But did she notice? Of course not.

There is no room for love when being an Assassin. There is only death, and destruction, and meaningless flings.

He knew this all to well.

It didn't stop the fire that burned in him. Didn't stop his longing to be with her. And not the way they already were. She used him to get away from Alistair when he was being too clingy. Used him when she needed nothing but carnal need and primal instincts. No love. No tenderness. No sweet nothings, and warm caresses.

No, that was saved for Alistair.

And Zevran wanted so badly to just _accept_ that. It had always been in his nature to do so before. So why now? What makes her so different from the countless men and woman he had slept with before?

Zevran flung the dagger in his hand, hitting the tree straight in the heart of the target he had made. Bullseye. Dead center. Just like his heart.

He wasn't satisfied. It didn't make him feel better. He tried not to notice them scoot closer to each other. Ignored them when he whispered in her ear and she giggled, a blush washing over her beautiful pale cheeks. He felt like dying when she stood and went to her tent, Alistair close behind.

Another dagger, another target, another perfect shot.

"Jealous, are we?" The tone had no warmth to it. No sympathy. A casual observation made by a frigid temptress.

Zevran knew the tone. He had practically invented it.

"Ah, Morrigan, it's hard to watch, no? He stumbles after her like a lost puppy, and has no eyes for you." His words suggested insults her way, but his tone was bitter. She sent a glare his way, but Zevran had learned to read people. She may seem like she had no heart but they were in the same sinking ship.

Morrigan was in love with Alistair. Zevran was in love with Raven. Raven and Alistair were in love with each other.

Morrigan's shields crumpled at his sympathetic look. She did not lie to him. He was too good at seeing through masks.

"At least she comes to bed you. He does not even glance my way. I am nothing but a cold-hearted witch to him." She whispered.

"She may bed me, but her heart is not mine. I cherish what I can get, but I long to have her for my own." He whispered back.

For a moment, they were silent. Sharing the same heartache. The same pain.

"Want to join me in my tent? I'm sure I can warm up that cold heart of yours, no?"

The moment passed, and Morrigan snorted. She sent an insult, about how he could be the last man on earth and she still wouldn't bed him, over her shoulder, and walked back toward her tent.

He laughed but he knew it sounded hollow. It was his own fault that Raven never looked his way for love. He was the one who told her he didn't believe it existed. He was the one who told her he only looked to bed her for fun. Nothing serious.

He had lied through his teeth.

She came to him when Alistair was becoming too clingy. Said she needed a release. Something hot, fast, and passionate. She didn't want to make love right now, which is all Alistair offered her.

So Zevran had given her what she asked for. And in the end, in the middle of their climax, for one moment, she had moaned his name.

He had been hooked to her the moment the breathy moan had escape her lips.

For one minute, she had been his. He was addicted now. Giving her the only pleasure he knew how to give. Bedding her whenever she asked him too the way she liked it. Hard. Fast. Hot. Passionate. Because it was only then that she belonged to him, and him alone.

There was no Blight. There was no bastard son of a king. There was no politics. Just sex.

He felt his heart sink as he listened to her moan in her tent.

A third dagger, a third target, another bullseye.

He wondered if he was even thinking about the targets anymore.

Or just his bleeding heart.

...

She fell back on his pillows, her chest heaving, sweat clinging to her body, and panted.

"Zevran, you always manage to surprise me." She mumbled, rolling over to look at him. He smirked down at her.

"Yes, I hear that a lot." He said, and laughed when she rolled her eyes. She went to stand and get dressed but he wrapped an arm around her waist. She gave him a confused look. He had never stopped her from leaving before.

"Wait...uh don't go yet." He said, coughed and then threw her a lecherous grin, "I do not believe I am finished with you quite yet."

She smiled coyly at him.

"Another round, then?" She asked, hands already running down his chest and toward his lower region.

"Mmm, such a beautiful woman as yourself, how can I possibly resist you?" He mumbled, his lips smearing kisses down her neck and across her collarbone. She let out a lovely sound when his mouth found her breast. A cross between a gasp and moan.

His right hand worked the other breast, and then he switched. A smirk curved across his lips as she whispered his name.

"Oh...Zevran..." She moaned. His heart pounded. His kisses became feverish. His hands became fire across her body. He licked, nipped, kissed, and sucked anywhere on her body his mouth came across, and she was panting and begging by the time he slid inside her.

He didn't know how it happened. He didn't know why it did. But when she screamed his name and bit down on his shoulder to keep herself from screaming again, he groaned.

"I love you..." He whispered into her ear, just as he met his climax, and then it all came crashing down on him.

"Wh-what did you just say?" She asked, shock and confusion in her green eyes. He jumped off her, his face a mask of horror and fright.

Oh Maker! What had he done?

"Uh...I mean..." But he couldn't come up with a good excuse.

Because he was telling the truth. He loved her. There was no denying it and there was no taking it back. It was out in the open now.

She stared at him, no words coming forth from her, and he closed his eyes, swallowing past the lump in his throat.

"I-I said I love you." He choked out. He didn't open his eyes. Fear kept them closed.

This was it. This was the end of any chance he may have had with her. This was the end of the only thing he _did_ have with her.

Raven let out a sigh.

"Zevran...I...I don't know what to say..." She trailed off.

He kept his eyes shut, his posture rigid, his mouth closed. He didn't open them while she dressed, he didn't open them when she laid a hand on his shoulder, he didn't open them when she whispered she was sorry for any misunderstandings, he didn't open them when she told him that she loved Alistair. He stayed quiet, and kept them firmly shut until he was sure she was gone. And when he did open them, he felt the tears sting as they fell down his cheeks.

He had ruined everything.

...

The journey to Denerim was tense. The atmosphere full of unspoken words, unheard appologies, and unanswered questions. Wynne noticed the tension between the elven assassin and the leader of the unlikely band of heroes. Raven glanced at Zevran every few minutes, a look of guilt, hurt, and sorrow in her emerald green eyes.

She noticed that whenever Raven wasn't looking at him, he looked at her with regret, sadness, and longing.

Wynne was no fool. Zevran was passionately in love with the female Warden, just as badly taken with her as Morrigan was taken with Alistair.

Wynne also knew that whenever Raven wasn't with Alistair, she was bedding the elf.

In fact, this whole group was a giant knot of unrequited love, and one-sided passion.

But that was the thing that annoyed Wynne the most. It didn't have to be so.

Alistair loved Raven. And he planned to marry the female Warden. But he also loved Morrigan. And only Wynne and the quiet Qunari noticed. The only reason Alistair did not act on his feelings for Morrigan was because he knew his duty was to his unclaimed crown, and his unclaimed land. There was no exception for apostates taking the thrown. People would be furious. So Alistair knew once he took up his birthright, he either had to marry Anora, marry Raven, or marry some stranger. He had no other choices, and because of that, he shunned his feelings for Morrigan.

Wynne was also aware that Raven loved Alistair but her heart belonged to Zevran whether or not she refused to acknowledge it. Raven's mind was set on ending the Blight, and she knew her confused and conflicting emotions would only get in her way. So she stuck with Alistair and took what she could get from her heart's true desire. She did not want to desert Alistair in his duty to his throne, and so she grinned and bared it. All along, trying desperately to convince herself that she didn't love Zevran.

Zevran, for all his inneudos, and leers toward other woman, and even some men, still watched her from the sidelines, almost desperate for a sign of her affection. Raven may not have noticed, but everyone else certainly did. Alistair chose to ignore it. Morrigan commented on it whenever Raven was out of earshot (which was surprisingly kind of her). Sten said nothing, but then, when did Sten ever comment on such things? Leliana thought it was romantic and was secretly praying that Zevran and Raven worked out. Oghren laughed whenever it was brought up, and patted the elf on the back saying "Don't worry, eh?"

And Wynne?

Wynne was getting sick of all the tension in this group!

**...**

He was marrying Anora. He had chose to marry Anora. Raven had hid in her room for most of the night, and didn't answer the door when Alistair stopped by to talk. To apologize.

She wanted to be upset. She wanted to cry and throw a fit, and beg him not to marry her. But she knew deep down that it was for the best.

And when she was sure she was alone, she let a relieved smile cross her face.

He was marrying Anora and that meant Raven was free to be with whomever she wished.

And she wished with all her heart and soul that she could be with Zevran.

If he would still have her.

She had messed up. Fed him lies after his confession. She probably ruined any chance she may have had with him, all because she was afraid and hadn't wanted to trust her heart. Didn't want to believe what he said was the truth because at the time, she had no choice. She had chosen Alistair because she knew it would be a secure relationship, and it would save Alistair from having to marry Anora.

But then he goes and decides to marry her anyway!

It had broken her heart to tell Zevran she didn't love him.

_Lies! _She had screamed in her mind that night, while she rested her hand on his trembling shoulder, _Don't believe me! I'm lying! If only you'd open your eyes. You'd know the truth! Please look at me!_ But he hadn't opened his eyes. And she was forced to follow through with her decision.

Raven took a deep breath, closed her eyes briefly to order her thoughts, and stood up. She left her room, wondering down the hallway toward the room she believed he was in.

She swallowed, and before she could change her mind, her hand shot out and knocked on his door.

"Who is it?" His accented voice floated through the door.

"It's..It's me." She called back, nervously tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. A few moments passed in silence, and when she was sure he wasn't going to reply back, she turned to walk away. She heard a click, and creak as his door opened and she turned around to see him standing in the doorway. His piercing blue eyes met hers, and for once his hair was out of his usual do. Silky blonde locks hung loosely down the sides of his face, and meshed well against his tan, angular face.

He opened the door farther, and stepped out of the way. She dropped her head and shuffled in, feeling a little relieved that he hadn't turned her away outright.

There was an uncomfortable moment of silence before Zevran cleared his thoat and glanced around his room.

"Pretty roomy. Definitely beats sleeping on a cot in the woods, no?" He said, gesturing toward the high ceiling, and soft throw rugs. A bookshelf as tall as the room stretched across one side of the wall, a window facing the courtyard on another. The bed was pushed across another wall, facing the window. The curtains let the moonlight in, and candles on several tables around the room lit whatever part of the room the moonlight did not.

She nodded, not trusting her voice yet.

Another few minutes passed in silence, and finally Raven took a breath.

"Zevran...do...do you remember the night we last bed together?" That wasn't exactly how she wanted to start the conversation off but what was said, was said.

He grinned, but she knew it was fake.

"Yes. How can I forget? I made quite the fool of myself..." His tone was bitter, his eyes were pained. She felt a stab in her heart. It was her fault.

"I wanted to tell you...to tell you the truth. That night...was the happiest night of my life." She whispered, looking down at the floor. She heard him scoff. And then choke. Her head whipped up and looked at him confusion.

"Was it not enough that you broke my heart? Now you must deepen the wound? Twist the dagger that already pierces my heart, hm?" He was shouting, his eyes squeezed shut, but his face was grief-stricken and angry.

"Wha-what do you mean?" She asked, genuinely confused.

"Happiest night of your life? I'm sure it was. Got what you wanted, and left. And me? The fool who fell in love with a woman who used me, and left him behind. Suppose it's karma, no? All the hearts I stolen and men and woman I used were bound to come back and haunt me." He seethed, taking gulps of air in as he tried to reign in his temper.

She burst into tears, heart shattering at his words. Woman who used him and left him behind? She deserved that.

"That's not what I meant!" She hollered back, "When you said you loved me...Oh don't you see Zevran! I loved you back! I still do! I told you lies that night. I don't love Alistair! I only want to be with you..." The last sentence coming out pleadingly, as she took a few steps forward toward him. She halted when he held up a hand.

A malicious grin crossed his face.

"Oh yes...You only want to be with me. You do not love Alistair. How convenient the timing of this confession, no? The night Alistair chooses Anora to wed." He spat out.

She shook her head, opening her mouth to plead with him to believe her but he shook his head angerly.

"Get out." He snapped.

"But Zevr-" But he didn't want to hear it.

"Get out!" His patience gone, and his hand shaking as he pointed to his door.

She sobbed, turning away and running out of his room. She heard his door slam behind her.

...

It had been a year since she, and her group of rag-tags had defeated the Archdemon and stopped the Blight. Alistair had been crowned King, and married Anora. Wynne had returned to the Circle. She didn't know where Morrigan went, no one had heard from her. Leliana went on with her own adventures. She believed Sten returned to his homeland. Rumor had it that Oghren had joined the Grey Wardens and was off fighting battles somewhere in Amaranthine. Her dog, bless him, he had died defending her against a Darkspawn.

And Raven? She had been named the Hero of Fereldan. There were songs and tales about her and her friends all over the place.

She had listened whenever a Bard stopped her to sing a new song he or she had come up with. She had always walked away when a song mentioned Zevran.

Somewhere in the Brecillian forest she had come across a dalish elf singing about the hero and her lover, the mysterious Antivan elf. She didn't know how anyone knew about her and Zevran but she suspected Leliana.

Raven had picked up odd jobs here and there. Fighting any darkspawn that wondered too close to Fereldan, fighting off bandits, and blood mages.

One cold winter night, Raven made her way into an Inn called the Rusty Tooth. The Innkeeper cheered when he saw her, waving her over.

"Maker's breath! It's you! What brings you to these parts?" He asked, excited that the Hero of Fereldan had graced his Inn.

"Just trying to find somewhere to stay for the night. How much for a room?" She asked, pulling out her sack of coins.

"Oh no no no! No charge!" He laughed, waving her attempt to hand him money away. She smiled gratefully, and tied her sack back to her side.

"Thank you, that is very kind of you." She replied.

"Kind of me? You're the hero! I would be kicked out of my own Inn if I had the gall to charge you." He answered, and she heard a woman's voice call from the kitchen, "Damn right!"

He laughed again, and pointed his thumb toward the door to the kitchen.

"The wife would have my head. Anyway, did you need anything other than a room? My wife makes a great shepherd's pie. And the bar is just through that door if you're feeling thirsty." Raven felt her appreciation swell at his words.

"Maker bless you, you are far too kind," She smiled when he blushed, "I'd love a shepherd's pie if it's no trouble. Could she bring in it to me in the bar?" She asked. This time she refused to take no for an answer as she slid some coins across the counter to him.

"No trouble at all. You just go on and have yourself a drink. I'll have Melinda bring you your food when it's ready." He answered.

She figured Melinda was the name of his wife.

"Thank you." She said, walking off toward the bar. She heard rowdy laughter, and women giggling as she opened the door.

Several patrons sat around the bar, and tables around the room. A table in the back was full of women, with what looked like a blonde man sitting in the middle of them. She couldn't much make out his face, he was too far back and the light was dim.

Shrugging, she made her way to the bar and the bartender greeted her with a nod.

"What can I get yah, little lady?" He asked, while polishing a glass mug with a rag. If he knew who she was, he didn't mention it and Raven was grateful. It was nice not to be fawned over sometimes. It got old rather fast. Sometimes she just wanted some time to herself. Some peace and quiet.

"The strongest ale you got." She replied, and smirked when the bartender grinned. A few minutes later, he set a huge mug in front of her filled to the brim with dark looking ale.

She thanked him, nodded her head again, and lifted the mug to her lips. She tipped it back and chugged. A few moments later, she finished almost all of it, and set the mug back down. She belched loudly, looking sheepish, as she whipped the foam away from her mouth.

"Nursing a broken heart?" The bartender asked, looking amused. Her eyes closed briefly and she bobbed her head in affirmation.

"Ah, I see. Well, finish that up and I'll go getcha another one." He patted her hand, and she smiled at him. She sipped the rest of her drink up quickly and handed the mug back to the man.

"So what's your name, traveler?" He inquired as he filled her cup up again.

Raven debated for a few moments on lying and making a name up but then remembered the Innkeeper knew who she was.

"Raven Cousland." She answered after a few hesitant seconds.

"Ah, the Hero of Fereldan. I suppose the conflicted emotions crossing your face meant you don't want it spread around?"

Her eyes widened in surprise.

"How did you know?" She thought she had kept her face neutral.

He laughed as he set her drink down, and wipped up a small spill.

"You pick up a thing or two on reading people when you're a bartender." He answered with a shrug of his shoulders.

She grinned.

"Yes, I suppose that's true." She took a sip of her ale, this time drinking more slowly.

"Do you want me to tell Soran to keep your identity under wraps?" He asked, leaning forward so the woman approaching the bar wouldn't overhear.

"If you would, that would be wonderful." She answered. He gave her a smile and nod of his head.

The boisterous call from the opposite end of the bar for more drinks called him back to work and he left.

Raven let her mind drift as she drank her ale, feeling a slight buzz taking a hold of her body.

It had been a year and she still wasn't over him. Sure, she had a few flings, and broken a few hearts but no one could hold her attention long enough. Not like he did. Never like he did.

She drifted aimlessly through Fereldan like a lost soul, and all this time, she had never come across him through her travels.

She had heard a few rumors from some people here and there that they had met an elf with an Antivian accent but either he was gone by the time she arrived, or it turned out to be a false rumor. After so much time had passed, she had eventually given up hope. She decided Zevran just didn't want to be found.

Raven dipped her hand into her pack and pulled out a folded letter, a little crinkled after spending a few hours in her bag, and smiled fondly at the chicken scratch adorning the page.

Oghren had probably been drunk when he wrote it.

Before she could open it, a middle-age woman with a warm smile, and chocolate brown eyes walk toward her with a steaming plate on a tray in her arms.

She set it down in front of her, and patted her on the shoulder.

"There you go, dear. Eat up, and enjoy your stay." She said, and gave her shoulder a squeeze before walking back toward the inn side of the surprisingly large building.

Raven looked down at her plate, and her stomach rumbled. She blushed a little when the bartender looked toward the sound.

"Guess I was hungrier than I thought." She responded, and he smirked.

Raven dug in and as she chewed she admitted that Soran had been right. Melinda did make a great Shepard's Pie. She finished her food quickly, and wiped her mouth. She washed her food down with the rest of her ale, and let out a content sigh. Nothing like a warm home-cooked meal, and some ale to settle the soul.

The bartender came over when she was finished and took the tray and empty plate away. He returned shortly and filled her mug up again.

"Thank you very much for everything. You've been so kind to me,..." She trailed, waiting for him to fill in the blank where his name should be.

"Garret." He answered.

"Garret. That's a nice name. Are you from around here?" She asked.

"I came from Redcliffe village. Wanted to do some traveling. When I arrived in this little town, I liked it so much, I never left." He informed. She nodded at this. He went back to wiping down the bar, and they fell into a comfortable silence.

Raven's gaze made it's way back to letter she had got out. She opened it and began to read. She laughed when Oghren described the elf he traveled with as being "So much like Morrigan, I'd believe they were sisters. They're both a couple of *Unintelligable scribbling*" She pushed back tears as she read about his mage friend. He was like a cross between Alistair and Zevran. She giggled when he told her about shleets and informed her to be on the look out for those. He also told her that he had run into Wynne, and that she sends her love.

The rest of the letter he spoke of his adventures, and some of the things he had found along the way. Sometimes it was hard to read his writing, and a few times she had to set the letter down in fear of crying. She missed Oghren. She missed all her friends.

And she missed Zevran the most.

Garret took her mug when she chugged the last of it and she shook her head when he offered her more.

"I think I am going to turn in for the night. Thank you, Garret. Have a good night." She waved her hand, and he bobbed his head in goodbye. She slipped down from her barstool and wobbled her way toward the door to the Inn. She bumped into a tall, heavy set man and he reached out a greasy hand to steady her.

"Woah there, little lady. Had a bit much to drink, eh? Need some help toward your room?" He slurred leeridly toward her, and she jerked her head back to escape his rancid breath.

"Not enough to find you attractive, I'm afraid. Now remove your hand and I'll be on my way." She grated out, trying to dislodge his grubby hand from her armor clad shoulder.

"I don't think I will." He grunted, his other hand coming up to grab her arm and Raven growled.

"You have five seconds to disappear from my sight or I will run my blade through your grizzly gut." She threatened, her hand coming down on the handle of her blade. He let out a hearty laugh, apparently not intimidated at all.

"Excuse me, sir, but I believe the lady asked you to be gone from her presence. I think you should do what she asks, no?"

His voice. Oh Maker's breath, it sounded just like him.

She swung her head toward the voice, and caught a gasp in her throat. Her gaze landed on the blonde man she had seen sitting in the corner of the bar.

_It's him..._

His tanned body was still lean, and built like the assassin he was. His blue eyes didn't glance her way as he spoke to the burly man holding her arm. His blonde hair was longer, braided, and draped down his left shoulder, ending just before his hip. And his lips, oh Maker, his lips were set in a malicious grin. The very same one that he wore the night he had turned her away.

"Oh yes, I suppose she did, didn't she? Too bad, I don't care, hm?" He said, turning away from Zevran without a second glance, and yanking on her arm so hard she was sure it was dislocated.

His mistake.

The moment he turned his back, Zevran had a dagger out and was lunging toward him. He would have killed him too if Garret had not whistled so loud that Raven felt like he ear drums were going to pop. Zevran's dagger disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.

"Stephen, I suggest you leave, and return to your wife before I'm forced to kill you myself." Garret said. Gone was the sweet bartender she had been talking to just moments before. His gaze was steely as he glared at the man holding her dislocated arm. The man reluctantly dropped her arm, and she clenched her teeth as pain shot up and down her limb. He stepped away from her, snorted drunkenly, and slinked out of the bar. When it was quiet again, Raven reached up and gritted her teeth as she popped her shoulder back into place.

She grunted, rotated her arm a little, and let out a sigh.

"Suppose he's a regular, huh?" She asked, as Garret came around the bar and walked toward her.

"'Fraid so. No one likes him. He's a bastard," He replied, "Here, let me see your arm, please?"

She smiled, and shook her head.

"It's fine. Thank you for the help. I think I've had my fair share of entertainment tonight. I'm exhausted."

Garret nodded, and smiled down at her.

"Well, just let me know if you need anything. Goodnight, traveler." He winked at her, and turned to return to his post at the bar. Patrons, having been silent through the whole thing, returned to their conversations.

She turned around, about to make her way toward the Inn again, when her eyes met Zevran's blue.

"You alright, miss?" He asked.

It felt like a sword straight to the heart. He didn't remember her. Not a flicker of recognition in his beautiful blue orbs and her heart shattered all over again. She cleared her thoat, trying to dislodge the lump, and nodded.

"Th-thank you for your help." Her voice was rough from attempting not to turn into a sobbing mess at his feet. He grinned.

"No trouble. I do not like to see ladies being mistreated by men. A woman should be cherished, and appreciated. Not slobbered on by fat men who wouldn't know how to pleasure a woman if they read a book on how to do it. You agree?" He leered at her then, and Raven felt a tear slip past her lashes.

"Y-yes. Will you excuse me?" She didn't wait for his reply, as she pushed past him, swiping at the traitorous tear, and practically running for the door.

"I'll be here tomorrow night if you want to talk." And for a moment, before she fled through the door, she thought she heard him say her name.

...

Raven curled herself into a ball, body shaking as silent sobs racked her. Did he remember her? If he did, then why pretend not to?

And if he didn't remember her, and she had misheard him in her haste to get away, she wanted to hate him.

Because, by the Maker, she remembered him every bloody day and to know that she had meant so little to him...

More tears sprang through her closed eyes, and she wished sleep would just take her from this painful world already. She'd brave the Fade if it meant release from this endless torture. This never ending cycle of thoughts that haunted her.

She longed for her mother now more than ever. She wished she was here to dry her tears and offer words of wisdom to soothe her broken heart.

Wynne would have known what to say. Oghren would have cracked a joke, and she would laugh and for a moment her gaping chest wound would feel just a little less breath-stealing. Alistair would have held her until she cried it all out. Morrigan would have offered to turn him into a toad, and then tell her to suck it up. Sten would have offered her a calming silence. Leliana would have sang a song full of sorrow and lost love but it would have been beautiful, and it would have lulled her into sleep. Dog would have been her shoulder to cry on and her strength when she was ready to stand again.

If only they were here.

But they weren't and she was crying like a child, curled in the sheets of an unfamiliar bed.

Alone.

She wept until the morning sun draped through her room's window.

...

She wasn't sure of the time, but she knew it was past noon when she opened her eyes, groggily. Her head was pounding and her eyes felt gritty. She let out a breath, and rubbed at her face. Raven rolled out of bed, landing on her feet, and trudged across the room to dress herself. She washed her face in the basin on the dresser, and then headed for the door. She trotted down the stairs, and greeted Soran as she approached him.

"You look tired. Not enough sleep? Hope it wasn't too loud for you." He looked worried, and she offered him a smile in reassurance.

"No. Just had a lot on my mind." She supplied, and this seem to appease his worries.

"Well, you must be hungry, hm? I'll have Melinda fix you something up, you just have a seat, alright?" Soran waved her away again when she reached for her sack of money. She sighed, and then nodded, walking off to take a seat at a nearby table.

Her mind drifted to last night again, and she wished her thoughts of him would leave her be. She felt a presence sit itself beside her and she looked up to see Garret smiling at her. She smiled back.

"Good afternoon, Sleepy Head." He greeted, and she stuck her tongue out at him. For some reason, Garret reminded her of her brother Fergus. He laughed, and rolled his eyes at her.

"Good afternoon, Garret." She answered back after their childish antics were over.

"You look like hell, Traveler." He informed, and she huffed. Her hand subconsciously drifted toward her red hair, and she ran her fingers through it. It had grown out since defeating the Archdemon, falling just below her breast. She tied it back, and swept it behind her in annoyance.

"What are your plans for the day?" Garret asked, adjusting himself more properly in his seat, and making himself more comfortable.

"I was thinking about heading to the market to pick up some more supplies, and then I believe I'll be heading out tomorrow morning at the earliest." She had originally planned on leaving today but she was tired from her night of no rest, and it just didn't seem like a good plan to head out at night, on little sleep. He nodded at this, but he looked a little sad at the thought.

"You'll have to visit from time to time. I think you're my favorite costumer."

She blushed at his compliment, nodded, and they slipped into a comfortable silence until Melinda arrived with Raven's food.

"Thank you, Melinda." Raven said gratefully, and picked her fork up.

"Not a problem, deary. Let me know if you need anything else," She smiled her warm smile again, and then glared at Garret,"Get back to work, you lazy lug." With that, she trotted off back toward the kitchen.

Garret chuckled, standing up from his seat, and patted Raven's shoulder.

"I better start serving drinks before people start to riot. Come see me when you're done with supply shopping, hm?" He grinned at her again, winked, and slipped through the door leading to the bar. Raven giggled, and shook her head. Garret was just like her brother. It brought a warm feeling to her heart, and for a moment, Zevran had disappeared from her thoughts.

...

She swore she saw Zevran out of the corner of her eye all day while she sold and bought things at the market. Every time she thought she saw him, however, she would turn her head and he'd be nowhere in sight. She decided then that she had lost her mind, and quickly hurried back to the Rusty Tooth Inn.

It was just starting to get dark as she bustled through the door. Melinda and Soran waved her toward them, a piece of paper clutched in Soran's hand.

"A man left a note for you." He informed, passing over the piece of parchment to her waiting hand.

She opened it, and found a message written in loopy and curvy handwriting.

_Meet me at the back of the bar shortly after dark._

_- Z_

That was all the note said, but she had already knew who it was from. Nervousness and excitment twisted in her gut.

Soran looked worried.

"Do you know who it's from?" He asked.

"Yes. Don't worry. He's an old friend." At this, the tension in Soran's shoulders eased, and Melinda let out a tired sigh.

"Oh, good. Well, if you need any help, you know where to find me."

Raven nodded and headed upstairs toward her room. She fretted with her hair, debating with herself if she wanted it up or down, before finally becoming frustrated and leaving it down. It fluttered over her shoulders and curved a little inwards at the bottom.

She had a similar debate about whether she should stay in armor or change into the dress she had bought while she was in the market, before deciding the hell with it, and left her armor on. Besides, how would she strap her sword on while wearing a dress?

She stalled awhile longer before she reluctantly returned downstairs. She waved at Soran and walked through the door and into the rowdy bar. Garret signaled her over, and still not quite ready to face Zevran yet, she wandered over.

"Good evening, Traveler. The blonde from last night has been asking about you. He's sitting over in the corner. Soran said he was an old friend?" Garret fixed her a drink as he talked. She bobbed her head once in reply but didn't look in the elf's direction. Not yet.

"He was a companion on my quest through Fereldan." She answered. He gave her a meaningful look and handed her her drink.

"The broken heart you've been nursing?" Concern clouding Garret's green eyes. She nodded again, her eyes glancing down into her foamy drink.

"If you need me to tell him to get lost, just let me know." Was all he said, and he went back to making other patrons drinks. She took a sip of her beer, steeled her nerves, and turned toward the corner she knew she'd find him in.

No women were at the table with him, and she thanked the Maker for small favors. She put one foot in front of the other and walked toward him. When she was close enough to see the blue of his eyes, she stopped.

"You wanted to meet me?" She asked, feigning indifference. If he could do it, so could she.

Zevran stood, his braided hair slipping down around his arm and swinging slightly in the back. His eyes met hers, and he slipped a grin on his face. It was as hollow and fake as she remembered from a year ago. He dropped the grin when she didn't return it.

"Raven...it is you, no?" He took a step toward her but stopped when she looked afraid.

She didn't speak, just nodded her head. There was a few moments of silence, before he tried again.

"It's been a long time, has it not? What have you been up to?"

Small talk. He wanted to meet her to make small talk? She couldn't believe him.

"Cut the nug shit, Zevran. I know you didn't meet me here to make small talk, so what do you want?" She grumbled out, and then took a large swig of her drink. He winced at her anger.

"No, I suppose I did not...Look, Raven, about what happened..." It was about then that all the nights of crying over him came rushing back to her and she hurled her mug at him. He dodged it easily, but wasn't prepared for the punch she threw his way. He nose sprouted blood, and his hand flew to his face. He smirked at her, his old mask slipping back on so fluidly that Raven felt her anger spike upward some more.

"You low-life piece of nug poo! How dare you! You can't just waltz back into my life and then try to have a civil conversation about what happened!" She shrieked. He winced at her volume, and glanced around nervously as their fellow bar-goers started to notice the scene they were making. He held his hands up, and she glared daggers at him.

"Why don't we take this somewhere more private, no?" He asked, wishing he had made a better effort to planning this out. He had expected her to be angry, but not violently so. He suppose he deserved it.

"No. I don't think we will. I'm over it, Zevran. Just stay out of my life." She turned on her heel, just as Garret stepped from around the bar. She shook her head at him when he went to offer his assistance, and he stopped. She stormed out of the bar, and Zevran watched her go. His heart feeling the searing pain like the last time he had watched her leave.

It was then that he realized he was making the same mistake as before. He couldn't just let her walk out of his life again. He had to stop her, explain to her that he still loved her. Would always love her. He pushed passed the gossiping patrons and followed her toward the door. He felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder before he could make it through.

"Don't think she wants you to bother her right now, Blondie." Garret growled. Zevran sent a sneer his way.

"Let go of me." He snarled.

"No. Traveler doesn't want you to chase after her. She wants left alone. So go clean up the mess you made over there, and don't bother her." He answered. Zevran bit back the retort he wanted to make about him not being the one who had thrown the the glass, but decided it was more trouble than it was worth. He yanked his shoulder out of Garret's grip and grumbled as he made his way back to the corner of the bar.

He had overheard Garret and Raven talking this morning about her plans. He'd catch her in the morning, just outside of town and try to talk to her then. For now, he'd put with the whispering, and the bartender's ever-watchful gaze.

...

Raven had said goodbye to Soran, Melinda, and Garret, promising to return sometime in the future. She had slipped Garret enough to pay for the room she had rented for two days, the drinks she had ordered, the cup she had broken, and the food she had ate and made him swear to sneak it in when Soran wasn't paying attention.

She trudge her way out of the town and down the road, musing over where she would go next. She tried not to think about her meeting with Zevran the night before. She had been arguing with herself all night if she may have over-reacted. Her conscience, which sounded an awful lot like Wynne, said she should have at least heard him out.

She let out a sigh, and her pace slowed some more. She thought about turning back and seeking him out but he was probably long gone by now. She wanted to cry but didn't, feeling like she had cried enough the night before.

She had waited, and waited for a chance to see Zevran again and when she finally had given up hope, he just popped up like the stealthy man he was.

_Damn him..._

She ran her hand through her hair and huffed. It was in that moment, as she stood at a crossroad, that he seemed to materialize out of nowhere.

"Miss me?" He called, walking over to her. She looked at him for a moment before looking away.

"I'd say I was happy to see you but I can't seem to make up my mind." She spoke.

"I have that affect on people." He sent her a lecherous grin, and she tried not to smile at the way he made her heart flutter. He turned after a moment, and reached out a hand to brush across her cheek.

"Listen, Raven...What I had been trying to say back at the bar last night before your...rather abrupt outburst was...I should not have let you walk out of my life. I should have chased after you and begged your forgiveness. I would have done so last night had your obnoxious bartending friend not stopped me." She _did_ smile at his description of Garret.

She looked at him then, meeting his sky-blue eyes and tears glistened on her cheeks in the morning sun. He wiped them away tenderly.

"I didn't come to you that night because Alistair had decided to marry Anora. I came to you because I knew then that I was free to be with you. I no longer felt obligated to save Alistair from his fate. I should have been honest with you from the very first night I came to you. I should have told you how I felt the night you told me you loved me. I'm so sorry, Zevran." At this she felt the flood gates open, and she vowed that day, as she sobbed into his chest and he wrapped his arms around her, to stop being such a damn blubbery mess.

"We both made mistakes, no? It does not matter anymore. I loved you then, and I still love you now. I'd like to start over, if you will still have me." He whispered to her and she wrapped her arms around him more tightly.

"I love you too, and of course I'll still have you." She mumbled into his chest, but he heard her all the same.

"Good. Now that that's settled, why don't we head to Denerim, hm? I believe a bard there has some explaining to do as to why I keep hearing songs about us." She laughed, reaching up and kissing his smirking lips. He deepened it, his arms pulling her closer to him, and she sighed into his mouth.

"Oh yes, Maker knows how many times I've heard the song 'She was fooling herself.'" She grouched. He laughed, throwing his arm around her shoulders and the couple made their way to the right, walking down the road that lead to Denerim.

Somwhere, in Denerim, Leliana felt a twinge shoot up her back.

"Maker help me, I feel I should be running for the hills..."

_"Weep out your sorrow,_

_ No love for tomorrow,_

_ Watch him as he disappears,_

_ Deny your love for the elf,_

_ You're only fooling yourself,_

_ We all seen your tears..."_

**...**

**A/N: So whatcha think? Long, I know. I appologize again for some ooc-ness. It really was for the plot. Please don't kill me, heh. This sucker originally started off rather small, and then it just grew, and grew, and grew! It took all kinds of different turns I didn't expect. Dontcha hate it when your story runs off on you? Anywhoodles, Review please and let me know whatcha think! **


End file.
